


Connverse Week One-Shots

by lightanddarklove



Series: SU - Domestic Bliss and Heartache [1]
Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Adult Connverse, Adult Humor, Anxiety, Asexual Spectrum, Car Accidents, Childbirth, College Talk, Connie being encouraging, Connverse baby, Connverse makes me soft, Crying, Depression, Doomsday Prepper, Drinking, Dungeons & Dragons 5th Edition, F/M, Fear of Societal Colapse, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, I wrote most of these in 1 day, Insomnia, Misgendering, Not Beta Read, Post-Episode: s06e09 Little Graduation, SU Soft Jock Au, Self-Esteem Issues, Steven Universe Future, Steven is having trouble thinking about the future, crying and cuddling, doomsday clock, mostly happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:27:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22551736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightanddarklove/pseuds/lightanddarklove
Summary: Jam Bud Week One-shots. Teen rating is chapter specific, tag added as chapters update. Full descriptions in each chapter.Day 1: Exploration - Explore your optionsSteven needs a bit of encouragement about the future after Little Graduation. Steven Centric. Gen.Day 2: Singing - Singing while SloshedHurt/Comfort in the Soft Jock AU. Drunkfic. Teen.Day 3: Sleep - Rest Well my BelovedThough Steven and Connie are new parents, Steven seems to be actively avoiding resting. Fluff. Connie Centric. Teen.Day 4: Together -  We Made it Through the Night, TogetherSoft Jock AU. After sleeping off having a bit too much to drink, Steven and Connie talk. Hurt/Comfort. Teen.Day 5: Drive - Drive Carefully, Get Home SafeConnie is pretty upset when she finds out Steven had a car accident going home. Hurt/ Comfort. Steven Centric. Gen.Day 6: Sword - Talin the HexbladeGreg Starts a D&D campaign with Steven, Connie and Amethyst. Shenanigans ensue. Fluff.Day 7: Future - Fear the of the Future...Connie wakes Steven up with fears of eventual societal collapse, but Steven's always willing to listen to her talk. Connie Centric. Gen.
Relationships: Amethyst & Steven Universe, Connie Maheswaran & Steven Universe, Connie Maheswaran/Steven Universe, Greg Universe & Steven Universe
Series: SU - Domestic Bliss and Heartache [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1649206
Comments: 9
Kudos: 87





	1. Exploration: Explore Your Options

**Author's Note:**

> Edit [Chapter Summary: Steven and Connie are trying to figure out where they're going to be spending the next few years. New exciting things seem on the horizon for Connie, but Steven needs a bit of encouragement after Little Graduation. Mostly platonic with a side of romantic pining. Steven Centric. Gen.] 
> 
> I’m still working on the Day 6 prompt, I hope I can get it done by 2/26 so I can work on my WIP that’s post Prickly Pair before we get new eps on 3/6 that throws my plans out the window. Please respect anyone who hasn’t come across the leaks, I’m trying to avoid the ones that’s been out since we got the last trailer and I’d rather not spoil anyone else too.
> 
> Please let me know what you liked! I love feedback. Thanks for reading!

Jam bud conversations on the phone were nice, but Steven missed seeing Connie in person. This as one of those weeks where a call was the only way she could fit him into her busy schedule. He draped himself over the bed, lying on his back, trying to relax as she told him about her plans and projects.

“Have you given it much thought where you want to go to school?” Steven asked, trying to sound encouraging and avoid sounding clingy.

“Well, there’s lots of options, but I haven’t nailed down anything exactly,” she replied. “I really think I want to work at Nasa, or do science communication elsewhere in the engineering field. But I’m worried that I’ll get to a big expensive school somewhere and after taking a few classes I’ll want to change my major and should have gone somewhere else.” Steven hummed in thought. “Right now I’m thinking about an Engineering major and either minoring in Video Journalism, or double majoring and then maybe Political Science as a minor?”

“Well,” he responded, “I know that your parents will support you no matter what you want to do or where you go.”

“I’m not super worried about that,” she said. “It’s more about wasting time or money. I know that they have enough in my college fund for in-state schools, public or private. But if I broaden my search to out of state, I’ll need to secure good scholarships to leave school debt free, which they’ve stressed will _really_ help me in my early adulthood. And in turn, if I need to get scholarships, I should really know what I’m going to school for, because some scholarships are dependent on majors.”

“What about a sport scholarship for tennis or fencing?”

“I haven’t dedicated the time into those to get the majority of my funding from that.”

“I don’t think you need to get most of it from the scholarship, you’ve got the college fund. Plus you’ve trained so hard for swordsmanship. And didn’t you go into a state competition for fencing this year?”

“I wasn’t in the _top_ of them,” she replied dourly. “I placed 6th.”

“For a completion that was state wide, including _seniors_?” He responded with enthusiasm. “I think that’s got to count for something. If you place in the top 3 next year, you could probably go anywhere you want with at least half of your schooling payed for.”

“I wish fencing was a more recognized sport. But anyway, I have some in-state schools I was looking at, and only a few out of state. A couple in Keystone, one in Buckeye, and Jersey. The furthest ones are in the Empire City area. Well, except for the one in Lone Star that’s supposed to be one of the biggest pools that Nasa pulls from. But that one’s _pretty hard_ to get into.”

“You’re smart enough, I think if you keep trying as hard as you have been, you can get there,” he said trying to keep his voice light. He paused for a moment. “I will miss you though, if you move so far away.”

“Well Lone Star does have a warp pad,” she replied. “I found out it’s a bike-able distance from the school. Forty minutes doesn’t sound that bad. Plus there’s Lion and planes and stuff. It won’t be too hard to see each other if we try.”

“Yeah,” he said, trying to keep the sadness from creeping into his voice. “But if you double major, would you have the time to see me, anyway?”

“You’re my best friend, Steven. I’ll make the time,” she responded confidently. He smiled wistfully, knowing she couldn’t see, but it encouraged him all the same. “There’s probably going to be heavy weeks where I can’t, but I feel like if I get into the Lone Star Aerospace University, I won’t need to impress as much by double majoring. So we can probably see each other most weekends. If you aren’t too busy, anyway. What do you think you’ll be doing next year? That would set you up for what you’re doing while I’m in school.”

“Now that Little Homeschool is done being set-up, and I’m not heading it anymore, I’m not sure.” He paused again. “I’ve been doing the gardening thing, but it’s just something to fill my time. I don’t think I’m becoming a botanist anytime soon.” Connie chuckled.

“Do you think you’ll want to teach again?”

“Even if I could become a teacher, what would I teach?”

“Why _couldn’t_ you?” She sounded firm in her conviction. “I think if you wanted to, you could get your GED, and start school when I do. You’re organized and creative, plus you really seemed to enjoy helping the gems learn. I think you could do the same for music, or cooking, or anything creative, really.”

“I wasn’t as good as I wanted to be,” he replied solemnly. “I’ve had a hard time letting go, and I was so busy I let a lot of things get pushed to the wayside that I should have been better with.”

“Learning about being a teacher from professionals would help you get those kind of skills,” she rebutted.

“I don’t think I have what it takes,” he said sadly. “My dad never finished Community College, I don’t think I could get a four year degree, _let alone_ a teaching degree.”

“That’s bull and you know it,” she replied. “You’re smart and very hardworking. That’s all it takes.”

“You think so?” he asked, hope inching back into his voice.

“I think you’d do well as a music teacher. You could also do design, you learned Illustrator in like 2 months to design those pamphlets for Little Homeschool. You’re a good cook, and you also have make-up skills, if you wanted something that doesn’t take as long to learn, those are good options.”

“Dad helped with the pamphlets,” he replied. “Also, I haven’t done much in terms of music in about 3 years, I’m probably pretty rusty.”

“You learned how many instruments before you were 14?”

“Uke, guitar, bass, drums, piano and vocals. So 6.” He counted on his fingers.

“Plus a few percussion instruments,” she responded.

“The cymbals and triangle _barely_ count.” He rebutted, slightly disdainful. “And I learned harmonica while in space since it was easy to keep in my pockets for when I had too much downtime.”

“That’s something musical you did in the past 3 years. Plus, you have perfect pitch, you’ve taught Peridot about music when you guys were working on the drill, so you have some experience there. Why not share your talents with young musicians?”

“I haven’t been writing songs lately, not since Spinel-“

“So? Learning new instruments could be what brings that spark to make something new. You don’t have to focus on Music Theory, unless you find that’s where your driving energy is pushing you.”

“Other than figuring out what GED requirements are to see if it’s feasible for me to finish in year or two, where would I even start? If I want to teach music, don’t I have to learn like, _all_ the instruments?”

“Start with orchestra instruments, there’s only 4 of them, so it’s more manageable. You already have experience with other stringed instruments. And since you know what the notes on electric bass are, a stand-up base wouldn’t be too different. They’re also the same strings on a violin. The main thing is learning how to grip the bow so you get a clear sound.” Connie paused. “Don’t you think you’d look good playing bass?”

His voice lowered to a mutter as he spoke, “aren’t I too short for that?”

“You aren’t shorter than the senior girl in my school who plays a full-size bass,” she teased. She paused thoughtfully and her tone changed, seeking to uplift Steven. “You don’t need to keep putting yourself down where you feel like you haven’t measured up, especially when it comes to music. You’ve done a lot of great things, and you can still find ways to improve, if you’re willing to learn.”

“Sorry,” he replied. “I just haven’t figured out where I’m going from here. You’ve got a plan, and I’ve…” He trailed off, considering his words carefully. “I’ve been looking for a fresh start, but haven’t found one yet.”

“Steven, comparing yourself to others isn’t helpful, especially since nobody has done the things you’ve done. You have so much to be proud of, you know that? It’s amazing what you’ve accomplished in just a few years.”

“You’ve done amazing things too, Connie,” he said pensively. There was a moment neither of them spoke, and he blushed, taking in all she had said.

“I, your knight, haven’t toppled an empire through Charisma and conviction,” she rebutted.

“Uh, well-“

“Just think about the music teaching, or culinary school, or beauty college, ok? You should have things to look forward to. You deserve that, I promise.”

“Thanks, Connie,” he replied admiringly, trying not to be overwhelmed with her praise. He heard her chair scoot back and she moved to stand.

“I gotta go, Steven. Mom just called for dinner and then I have to finish my paper for History tonight. I’ll text you when I take a break, ok?”

“Ok, talk to you later.”

“Bye!” she said, hanging up. He waited a moment as the call ended, phone still in hand.

“I love you,” he said, knowing the call was over. He hadn’t been able to say it with words to her, not since he had said it when leaving her behind to head for his trial on Homeworld. He hoped that the presents and gestures he had made for her spoke what he couldn’t say aloud. Someday, he could tell her, but not yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to mention the state names Connie’s talking about:
> 
> Buckeye - Ohio  
> Empire State - New York  
> Lone Star - Texas


	2. Singing: Singing while Sloshed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A night at a party for College-age Steven and Connie results in one too strong drink, a clumsy walk home, and embracing each other through the tears. Hurt-Comfort in the Soft Jock AU. Established relationship, but no significant physical intimacy. Rated T for drinking and one use of mild language. Some depression talk and self esteem issues too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is obscenely long for what was supposed to be a drabble so I'm just going to like the soft jock au here:  
> https://susoftjockau.tumblr.com/
> 
> Edit: I may have gotten a few things wrong because I posted at 3 am, & this is an unbeta’d work. Also, being that I am not affiliated with the SJ AU, I don’t know if Fiona’s personality at all fits within its standard. If there’s another cheerleader character that her actions would make more sense for, I can totally change it. Its Connverse focused after all.
> 
> The first song Steven's riffing on is "It's Only Love" (though you may know it as Michelle) by The Beatles. The second song is "Love Like You," Steven Universe's extended credits theme.
> 
> Lastly, the idea that Steven only likes sweet alcoholic bevs is hardwired into me, as someone who hates beer and wine, I think he wouldn't like them either. I mean he doesn't like energy drinks for stars sake (he makes a face when drinking one in Kevin Party), what about beer would be appealing when he can have wine coolers and ciders?
> 
> I may continue this for thursday’s prompt, together, as I orginally wanted them to have a conversation in the morning but at 3 am I had to call this done. I wrote over 4k words in one day that I was off from work and I can’t be doing that again, or staying up later, haha.
> 
> Edit 2: Tweaked a few lines at Connie's dorm, I didn't realize that Connie's room was on the first poor, oops.
> 
> Anyway, feedback makes me smile, even if you tell me about typos or that I could be doing something better. Please let me know of I neglected any tags I should mention. Thanks for reading!

Steven had been sitting at a table, enjoying the music and sipping a soda in a red plastic cup until all that was left was ice. He was waiting for Connie to finish her conversation with Natalie across the room. He bobbed his head lightly to the music playing from the speaker by the doorway. He was smiling at Connie until Fiona came to sit down in front of him. He sat up a bit straighter and looked at her.

“Hey Fiona,” he said.

“You sticking around, Universe? Or you itching to get out of here,” asked Fiona.

“I wouldn’t say I’m _itching_ to get out of here,” he replied. “But Connie and I were looking to leave soon.”

“Do you want another drink before you go?”

“Well, I did already have 2 wine coolers earlier, so I think I’m done for the night.”

“Really,” she asked. “I mean, how long ago was that? Like 10?”

“10:30,” he replied. “But I have to get home soon, anyway.”

“That was almost 2 hours ago.” She said. “You can have another drink. I’ll be right back, wait here. You like soda and orange flavor, right?” She began to stand and he tried to wave her back.

“Don’t trouble yourself for me, Fiona.”

“If you like soda and fruit juices, you’ll like it. You can barely taste the alcohol, the way I make it. Don’t go anywhere, I’ll make one for each of us.”

“Well, ok.”

She disappeared into the kitchen, just past the speakers. He tapped his foot and glanced back to Connie, who had leaned into Natalie as their conversation continued. Natalie had on a wry expression as she finished telling Connie something, and Connie threw her head back and laughed. It was nice to see Connie be more comfortable with herself after a few years in college. To see her laughing at a party and not have himself be the cause of it was a good feeling. Steven can’t help but feel his chest swell with pride. He smiled at her but didn’t try to get her attention yet.

With a clink, a glass was set down in front of him, Fiona sliding in from his peripherals. The drink didn’t look bubbly, a brown-orange tone with a few ice cubes and a lemon wedge hung over its rim. The glass looked like a juice glass, not designed to hold over 10 ounces, and it wasn’t full, so he assumed it was about a 6 to 8 oz drink. Fiona had her glass in her hand as she sat next to Steven with smirk.

“Ready to try something new, Steven?” Fiona asked. “Take a sip without the lemon first, then squirt it if you want it more sour.” She raised her glass, waiting to have him give her a cheers with his.

He lifted the drink and clinked hers, quietly saying “Cheers,” before bringing it to his lips. Sweet and sour was the first flavor he noted, and then mostly orange, with some cola blending in and a minor alcoholic tang. He was pretty sure the base of the liquor was tequila, but there were other flavors he couldn’t identify, since he was pretty new to trying drinks. He nodded and smiled after the first sip. “It’s good.”

“You like?” Fiona replied, voice coy.

“Yeah,” he said, and with two gulps his drink was almost gone. She snorted, seeing how quick he had downed the cocktail. He gasped quietly, the burn in his throat stronger than the flavors had made it out to be.

“Careful there, Universe, or you’ll be on the floor,” Fiona remarked. “You aren’t a lightweight, are you?”

“Its fine,” he replied, downing the last sip. His eyes drifted back to Connie who was quickly approaching from across the room, brows knitted in concern, and Natalie behind her. He moved to stand from the stool and stumbled slightly, not expecting to be feeling the alcohol so quickly. Connie moved her arms to steady him.

“You ok?” she asked, eyeing him over. Steven gave a dopey smile and leaned on her slightly.

“Heeeeeyyyy Connieeee,” his voice turning sultry and mellow. His lowered pitch sent a chill up her spine, but she pushed the feeling that thrilled her down and rounded on Fiona, glaring.

“What did you give him?” Connie barked.

“It looked like a Long Island Iced Tea,” Natalie said from behind Connie.

“I call it…” Fiona replied, pausing for effect and waving her half-finished drink in one hand, “a Strong Island Iced Tea. It’s got more tequila and sours than the standard.”

“A _Long Island Iced Tea_ ,” Connie half-shouted, exasperated. “Are you _kidding me, Fiona?_ That has 5 kinds of alcohol in it!”

“Whoa,” Steven remarked quietly but with his lowered tone it made Connie feel warm in the pit of her stomach. “I didn’t know that. You’re so smart, Connie.” Her cheeks burned with blush as he said it with such adoration.

“He’s hammered,” Natalie crooned, half-way hiding a chuckle, before straightening up and gesturing her hand out. “Gimmie his keys. He shouldn’t be driving anywhere tonight.”

“I’m not _hammered_ , jus’ a lil’ tipsy.” He slurred. He swayed slightly as Connie fished through his Jacket pocket. “Gimme an hour and I’ll be fiinnneee.”

“Definitely not,” she replied firmly, but not harshly. She handed Natalie Steven’s car keys. “You can stay with me tonight, ok? Sleepover?” He gasped with excitement.

“Sleepover!” he warbled hazily. “With Connie. You’re so sweet.” Her face felt hotter, as she gripped his hand in hers.

“Thanks for this, Fiona,” Connie said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “See you later.” Fiona grinned and waved.

“Don’t dare take advantage of him,” Natalie called, starting to walk back toward the party-goers. “I’ll find out. And make sure he hydrates.” She took out her phone and sent a group text to Steven and Connie, _I have your keys, come get them after you’ve slept it off._

“I got this,” Connie replied, exasperation clear in her tone. She looked back in his face at his reddening eyes and put on a plating smile, trying to speak more kindly. “Let’s go get some rest, ok? You look tired.”

“You’re the best, Connie.” He said, glowing with inebriation. She began to lead him out when he started to serenade her, causing her mild blush to spread to her ears, face beet red. The tune was recognizable, a reworked Beatles cover.

“Connie, my sweet  
You have made my heart feel joy complete  
My Connie.”

“He doesn’t normally do this in front of others,” she called, voice slightly shaken with embarrassment to the partygoers as she led him through the entryway. “Please ignore us and have a good night.” They passed through the main doorway of the off campus housing as he continued his song.

“Connie, my sweet  
Sont les mots qui vont tres bien ensemble  
Tres bien ensemble”

His French pronunciation was faltering. She knew he was at an intermediate Italian level. But in trying to speak French, it sounded like he had tried Duolingo for an hour and was making a fool of himself pretending he had been doing it his whole life. He pitched forward again and she had to nearly dive to keep him upright. She hoisted as much of his broad shoulders and chest over her smaller frame without attempting to carry him outright as he sang sweetly in her ear, legs stumbling behind her.

“I love you, I love you, I love you  
That's all I want to say  
Until I find a way  
I will say the only words I know that you'll understand”

She lead him on sidewalks, trying to take the most direct route to her dorm and avoiding uneven surfaces as best she could. Her blush had died down, mainly because other people weren’t watching them. The way his warm frame leaned against her dragging the thrilling feeling out of her again, making her heart pound firmly against her ribs. Still, she tried to keep focus and lead them out of the chill night air as quick as she could.

“Sont les mots qui vont tres bien ensemble  
Tres bien ensemble  
I need to, I need to, I need to  
I need to make you see  
Oh, what you mean to me  
Until I do, I'm hoping you will know what I mean  
I love you”

“You’re so sappy,” Connie replied, voice quiet. “I know that you would do his sober, but I just wish this kind of thing was just for the two of us, you know?”

“I want you, I want you, I want you  
I think you know by now  
I'll get to you somehow  
Until I do, I'm telling you so you'll understand”

She leaned against him as she held his hand outside of her dorm, fumbling with her keys as she kept her left hand gripped tight to his right.

“Connie, my sweet  
Sont les mots qui vont tres bien ensemble  
Tres bien ensemble  
And I will say the only words I know that you'll understand  
My Connie.”

He faltered a bit as they came through the doorway, smacking his left arm just above his wrist on the doorframe as she led him to her room. Connie winced at the sound. She was grateful her roommate Carly was out of town for the evening. She still probably will hear about it, the rumor mill ran strong on this campus, but at least Connie was spared from more embarrassment this evening.

“You done now?” she asked. She sat him down on the bed and dug through her closet for his spare pair of sweatpants she kept there.

“Uh-huh,” Steven replied, voice thick and alluring. “Thanks for takin’ me back, Strawberry, I know you always lookin’ out for me. I’m lucky I have someone like you. Love you.”

She shivered at the praise, avoiding his eyes as she set the pants down on a clean patch of floor.

“You need to drink some water and take some aspirin before bed.” Connie ordered. “Stay put, I’m going to get both of those things.” She pulled her own pajamas from the corner of the bed and closed the bathroom door behind her. She grabbed the aspirin bottle from the cabinet and set it on the counter. Glancing back to ensure that the door was fully closed, she peeled her outfit off quickly and tugged her PJs on. Grabbing her hairbrush and two pills from the bottle of medicine, she backed outside. Steven still sat on the bed, swaying lazily.

“Hiiii Connnniiieeee.” His voice had drawn back up to its usual tenor as he greeted him. She smiled.

“Hi Steven, stay here for a minute, ok?” She replied. “I’m going to the kitchen, and I want you to wait because I don’t want to risk you hurting yourself.” She placed the brush on the pants she had set out and kept the pills clutched to her palm by her ring and pinky finger.

“Yooooouuuu got it!” He gave a thumbs up.

She darted out of the room after he confirmed he would stay, and sped to the kitchen. She pulled 2 water bottles from the fridge, both eco-friendly bottles that she and Steven had shared before. After grabbing clean reusable straws from the drying rack to put in the bottles, she marched back to her room. She left her door open and found Steven had taken his shoes and jacket off in the time she was gone. He laid on his stomach, feet crossed and head propped up on his arms, stretched across her bed diagonally.

“You’re cute in your PJs, Connie.” He caught her off guard with that compliment. But she crossed the room anyway and sat next to his head. Despite how lucid he sounded, it was best he got some water in him before going to sleep.

“Thanks, but can you sit up for me? I have some medicine I need to give you and then I’ll brush your hair.”

“Yay! Sleepover activities!” He propped himself up onto his elbows and stuck his tongue out, leaning his head back for the aspirins. She was glad he trusted _her_ this much, but it was a bit worrying that he was so lax. She hoped he would always keep himself safe as he dropped the two pills into his open mouth and pressed the straw of the bottle to his tongue. He leaned on one hand as he took the bottle from her in the other, sipping the water through the straw. If he was always this trusting while drunk, someone could take advantage of him, and that thought scared her. She wanted to think about anything else, so she gently took his curls in her hand and gave them a gentle stroke. A chill went along his back and shoulders and he made a little excited noise.

“I want to brush your hair,” she offered. “Can I take your hair tie out?”

“Mmm-hmm,” his response came around the straw. With a gentle tug the hair tie was out and his curls came loose, framing his maturing face. She stood, watching him as she moved toward the brush on the floor. He finished his sip and let out a contented sigh. “I hope I haven’ been too much trouble, Berry.”

“What?” she asked as she got the brush and came back to sit next to him.

“I’m all loopy, an’ you’ve been takin’ care of me.” His response was quiet but mostly coherent.

“I know you would do the same for me, drunk, sick or whatever, Biscuit,” she replied. “I’m not upset that you need help. It’s ok to ask. Now I’m gonna ask that you sit in front of me so I can brush your hair.”

“Kaaay.” He called, setting the water down on her end table. She gasped as he suddenly rolled off the bed and landed on his left forearm and knees, not reacting quite fast enough to catch himself with his hands. It was still impressive he hadn’t fallen onto his face.

“Steven-“Connie scolded.

“Huh?” he sat up and scooted his back up against her knees.

“Don’t be so careless,” she replied. “You scared me. And drink your water, please.”

“I can do that,” he said. He leaned over to grab the bottle and then rested his head touching her knees. She flipped his hair up onto her thighs, accessing the ends and began brushing. He hummed contentedly. “You’re great, Connie. I’m glad that this all didn’ go badly.” Her brows furrowed with concern as she worked through his tangles. “Was scared, ya know? If you weren’ keeping me calm, I might’ve been the angry drunk type, an’ made a mess of things.”

“I-“ Connie felt her hands shake slightly as she tried to muster a response. “That could happen to anybody, you shouldn’t worry too much…”

“Buh my powers, if ‘m not careful, I could hurt somebody, then I’d get expelled, or arrested, fer sure.” She gripped the brush tightly and accidentally pulled back on a knot. He hissed quietly through his teeth and she dropped the brush. His shoulders trembled slightly and she heard a sniff. She dropped down onto her knees, hugging him from behind.

“No Steven,” she replied, her voice thick with emotion. “I know you wouldn’t intentionally hurt anyone.” He sniffed again, putting his water down and scrubbed at his face.

“Turns out… I’m actually a sad drunk,” he joked, and turned to face her. Her eyes were shining with unshed tears and he gasped. “Oh nooooo… now I’ve made you sad. I’m sorry. ‘m so sorry. So so sorry.” He turned around fully, kneeling and held her tight to his chest. Fat tears dripped down his cheeks. She clutched to his shirt, resting her head on his shoulder and let her own tears fall.

“You don’t- you shouldn’t feel like it’s- it isn’t your fault,” she stuttered.

“I made you cr-cry,” He bawled. “I’m always hurting people, even wh-when I don’t meeean to.” She took a steadying breath, trying to defuse his turbulent emotions.

“You’re allowed to forgive yourself, Steven,” she replied, looking up. Her eyes still shone with wetness, staring into his face as he looked away.

“I- I- embar- rrassed you, I made you cryyyy, and- nd I _burdened_ you with my prob-blems,” he hiccupped. “I shouldn’ be here- I _need_ to-“He moved to stand but Connie held tight.

“No.” she ordered. “You should stay. You’re upset and you’re allowed to be. You can talk to me about anything. _Please don’t go._ I’ll worry if you leave.”

“B-B-but…”

“Please,” she repeated.

That was convincing enough. He wilted into her touch, resting his head on her shoulder. Any sign of resistance melted away into fatigue. A few trace sobs shook his frame before they quieted. She kept one hand on his shoulder and grabbed Steven’s water with the other. She pulled away long enough to press the drink into his hands. He nodded, sitting down fully and drinking quietly. She sat in front of him and ran one hand through his hair, and gave him gentle strokes on his upper arm with her opposite arm.

“You look like you’re stewing.” She remarked gently. “Having a few drinks doesn’t make you a bad person. Asking for help doesn’t either. I’ll gladly have a few embarrassing stories about me if it means you get to go home safe tomorrow. Letting you leave by yourself and get hurt would have been far worse than anything else that could have gone wrong. You deserve to be safe, ok?” He nodded meekly, finishing the drink with a loud slurp. “You aren’t asking too much to be here. You don’t deserve to feel like a burden, and no one I know would _ever_ say that about you.” He quietly leaned forward, dropping the empty bottle to the space between his thighs and went to press his forehead to hers. She obliged him.

“Thank you,” he half-whispered.

“Now, are you steady enough to stand, or will you need help getting changed?” she leaned over to where the sweatpants she had put out for him earlier sat and pulled herself close to him after grabbing them. He opened his palms to her and let her place them in his hands.

“I think I got it.” His face was tinged with blush at the suggestion. He pressed his right palm to the floor, moving to stand. She pulled herself to her feet first and offered him a hand up. He threw his pants over his shoulder and took his hand. She smiled gently at him. He fondly returned the gesture, steadily making his way to the bathroom door.

“Oh wait, I just want to grab something out of there,” she called, hurriedly stepping in front of him. She snatched the aspirin off the counter and put it away, grabbing makeup wipes and a compact mirror from her medicine cabinet. She stepped out, gesturing behind her. “It’s all yours. Please be careful, maybe sit on the toilet to get changed? I don’t want you to fall.”

With a sigh he nodded. He stepped through the doorway and closed it behind him. She leaned against the wall next to the door and took a make-up wipe out, swiping her mascara streaked eyes before opening the compact. As she worked the wipe across her face she herd Steven’s gentle singing come through the door, just over the sounds of him changing.

“If I could begin to be  
Half of what you think of me  
I could do about anything  
I could even learn how to love  
When I see the way you act  
Wondering when I'm coming back  
I could do about anything  
I could even learn how to love like you”

She recognized the song as being something he had said the gems had sung for him when he was young. It stung that he might think these kind of thoughts about himself. She swallowed hard.

“Love like you  
I always thought I might be bad  
Now I'm sure that it's true  
'cause I think you're so good  
And I'm nothing like you”

“Steven, I promise that isn’t true…” She called through the wall. She heard him stand and move toward the door.

“Look at you go  
I just adore you  
I wish that I knew  
What makes you think I'm so special…”

She stood as the door opened and embraced him. He leaned forward into her and sang quietly into her neck. She held him close and rubbed soothing circles into his shoulders. He swayed gently into her touch as he crooned.

“If I could begin to do  
Something that does right by you  
I would do about anything  
I would even learn how to love  
When I see the way you look  
Shaken by how long it took  
I could do about anything  
I could even learn how to love like you

Love like you  
Love me like you…”

They stood in silence for a moment and just enjoyed being held by each other. After a bit, she lowered her hand and took him by the wrist, leading him to the bed. After he sat, she took her garbage and placed it near the head of the bead and cleared her night stand.

“You’re going to be on the outside of the bed tonight.” She remarked quietly. “I’m the big spoon this time. Just let me know if you start to feel sick. I don’t care if I’m sleeping, I will hold your hair back.” He nodded. “How do you feel right now?”

“Not great, but, better than before,” he muttered.

“Well, I’m going to try and make it better. Lie down, ok?”

“Mmm-hmm.” He obliged without protest. She grabbed the comforter, tucked him in and crossed the room, shutting the light off. She stepped over him and lied down by his left shoulder. She untucked that side of the bed to get herself firmly snuggled into the weighted blanket, and nimbly re-tucked them both in.

“Night, biscuit.” She murmured. “Love you.”

“Love you too.” He replied. “Night.” He turned to face away, pointing his face toward the trash bin in case his stomach lurched in protest while sleeping. She rubbed few more gentle circles into his back and let herself be comforted with his warmth beside him. He heard her breathing even out before long, hoping that sleep would come easier with her beside him. It wasn’t long before the heaviness in his heart was outweighed by heavy eyelids, and drifted into slumber.

* * *

Morning came, as it always did, a bit too soon for Connie’s liking. She gave a quiet sigh through her nose and lifted her head to check on Steven, who she could hear was snoring quietly. He had turned in the night to lie on his back, and his calf draped over her lower legs. His expression looked peaceful, but dark circles still showed on the pale skin beneath his eyes. Craning her neck, she could see the bathroom had looked as she had left it, as did the trash bin. It was unlikely seeing these two things in place that he had gotten sick in the night and not woken her.

She laid back down, pressing her face into the soft skin of his upper arm. He smiled contentedly but stayed asleep. It was a Sunday, so no pressing commitments for either of them. She could let him rest and deadlines for Monday be damned. She draped her arm across his torso, and let herself melt into the bed. She told him he deserved to be safe, and she never felt safer than with her next to him. Hopefully, the reverse was true, and she could help him to feel safe and loved. For now, what he needed was sleep, and she wouldn’t deny him that peace. He gave her joy and that was precious to her. So she would help however she could, and that meant staying in bed. She would take it any day.


	3. Sleep: Rest Well my Beloved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As new parents, Steven and Connie aren't getting much sleep. However, Steven seems to be actively avoiding resting, and Connie intends to find out why. Fluff with a bit of adult subjects related to childbirth. Connie-centric. Teen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connie and Steven are using Peanut as a nickname for their daughter, and the Tamil words for grandparents for Doug and Priayanka. Mother's father is Taata and Mother's mother is Paati.
> 
> Also, lil bit of Demisexual Steven mention when they're talking about therapy.
> 
> Steboni’s name for their daughter is from a comic on tumblr : https://discount-supervillain.tumblr.com/post/124999136372 (edit: which I was able to find this afternoon) that has a adolescent Connie and Steven daughter and is adorable.
> 
> Thanks for reading and I love hearing from readers, please let me know what you think.

_Being a new parent is hard,_ Connie thought to herself as she lay in bed, awoken by the sound of crying from the baby monitor. _I knew that already, but actually getting as little sleep as we are, is very different from being told that you will._ She sighed quietly, and was about to take off the covers when she felt the bed beside her shift. She cracked one eye open to see Steven sitting up and about to go face the crying infant in the other room. He was turned away from her and she gently reached out to touch his back.

“It’s my turn, Biscuit,” she mumbled. He stood and turned to face her with a tired half-smile.

“I couldn’t sleep.” He groaned. “You pumped enough earlier? I can get it.”

“Yeah, but you should try to get some rest,” she replied, voice thick with sleepiness.

“You can get the first diaper when the sun’s out,” he said, leaning down and pressing a kiss to Connie’s cheek. She ran a weary hand through his curls as he moved away.

“Ok,” she relented. He turned the baby monitor down, as they always did when the other is still in bed. She closed her eyes and heard him pad away. She tried to breathe deeply as his voice came from the monitor. He crooned sweetly at their crying daughter. Cries turned into whimpers as she heard her husband in the other room, comforting their baby. After a few minutes, she knew the pair had left the room to get breastmilk as they went quiet.

It would have been the best time to fall back asleep while her husband and daughter were in the kitchen. Unfortunately despite counting breaths and trying not to think about anything, her mind was drawn back to how little Steven was sleeping. _I have to do something,_ she thought. _He can’t keep this up forever. I’ll call mom, or Greg or the gems in the morning, see if they can watch Steboni sometime this week so he can get some rest._

It had been just over a week since Connie and the baby had come home from the hospital. Having her parents stay at the apartment for the first few nights had helped, but since then, Steven rarely slept before 4 am, and never more than 4 hours at a time. The bags under his eyes were getting worse, and they looked about as bad as they did when he was running Little Homeschool. When she was up for the day, she sometime spotted him curled up in a chair, squeezing in a 20 minute nap here and here. It was seldom now he looked rested.

Connie tried turning over again and sat for another few minutes before hauling herself out of bed, scrubbing her eyes. With a groan and pop of stiff joints, she stretched and made her way to the bathroom. Moments later, she emerged, and Steven still hadn’t come back to bed. She moved into the kitchen, and found it absent before looking into the living room. There, near to the center of the room, he was seated pretzel style with their daughter in the crook of his arm as she sleepily chugged down the ends of her bottle. Lion was pressed against Steven’s back, drowsily observing at the bundle in Steven’s arms.

Connie caught Steven singing ends of a lullaby she recognized as being one Greg wrote when Steven was a baby. Somber and sweet, his voice had more baritone qualities as Steven had aged, but it was still his. Connie smiled fondly.

“Things start and things end  
And isn’t it lovely in theory but   
I could never be, I could never be,   
I could never be ready.”

Steboni had her eyes fluttering between open and closed as he sang, so he repeated the final verse a second time. Connie quietly stepped back into their bedroom to grab her phone off the charger and snapped a picture from the kitchen doorway as he finished the song and their daughter fell asleep. She set the phone down on the kitchen counter. He still hadn’t made any indication he had noticed Connie as he gently rocked the baby in his arms. Upon Connie’s entrance into the dimly lit room, Lion flicked his ear and raised his head slightly. This finally brought Steven’s attention from his daughter to his wife. His eyes only glanced up to Connie for a moment before looking back down in adoration at their child.

“Couldn’t sleep either?” Steven murmured.

“I was hoping you’d be back to bed by now,” she answered softly, stepping toward the pair.

“Hmm,” he crooned. “Our little one was fussy when I was changing her. I think she’ll go down easy now that she’s eaten though.”

“I’ll take her to the crib,” Connie offered in a whisper.

“I would say no, that I can do it, but I’m actually pretty comfy right now,” he replied. “You don’t mind?”

“I got you, Biscuit.” Connie snuck her hands into Steven’s arms and cradled their daughter carefully, supporting the neck as her mother had taught the young parents. She held the infant, rocking gently, and strode to the nursery, setting her down with the utmost care. With a smile, Connie tucked a loose curl into her daughter’s beanie, and tiptoed back into the living room.

Steven slouched against Lion comfortably. He gave her a lopsided grin as she sat down on the floor beside him, calves tucked under her thighs, so she was at the proper height to rest her head on his shoulder. She took one of his hands in hers and rested in on her thigh, rubbing circles on the softened palm with her thumb. He lazily stroked her leg with two fingers.

He pressed a kiss to her temple and he hummed, “Thanks for that, Strawberry.”

“Anytime,” she mumbled into his shoulder. She straightened slightly so she could look into his eyes. “Are we going back to bed, or we staying here for a while?”

“What’s the rush?” he asked. “Stay and sit a spell, I’m in no hurry.”

“You need your sleep, Steven.”

“Eventually, yes, but I could fall asleep here.”

“You’ll wake up with a sore neck.”

“I can live with that. It’s so warm next to Lion and with you here, I have no reason to get up until the baby does.”

“Are you having a hard time falling asleep in bed?” she asked with undisguised concern.

“We’re parents to an infant,” he said, tone apathetic, “there’s no way that we’re sleeping through the night anytime soon. I’m not in a hurry to get in bed, sleep for two hours and wake up again. I’d rather sit here with you. I can sleep later.”

“I said I’d take the next diaper,” she replied. “You did two in a row, plus I think you gave her the last of the breastmilk I had pumped, so I’ll need to get it anyway.” He leaned into her and hummed in thought.

“You could… try pumping while sitting next to me so we can snuggle?”

“Oh that would be _very sexy_ of me.” She said, voice thickly sarcastic.

“I watched you _give birth?_ ” he replied, voice trailing upward as he spoke, “Do you think that if that couldn’t scare me away, watching you use a breast pump would?”

“I’m pretty sure most of the time you were crying or had your face in your hands,” she teased.

“Berry, I was _worried_ …” he whined.

“And everything with me and our daughter is fine now, so I’m worrying about _you_.” She pointed to his chest as she spoke. “So why aren’t you sleeping?”

“No fair,” he pouted, looking away. “I just wanted to cuddle and now you wanna make me talk about serious stuff.”

“What’s serious about it?” Her hand reached his cheek and pulled his face toward hers for a kiss. After they pulled apart he sighed.

“I know this is a long road ahead of us, but I don’t want to miss any of it.”

“Parenting is not a _sprint_ , but-“she recited.

“It’s a _marathon_.” They said together. He looked away again, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I know,” he muttered, “but even when I try to sleep I just end up thinking about everything that can go wrong.”

“It’s scary, but we’re lucky we have a lot of support.” She replied comfortingly. “We have Paati and Taata, Pops Greg, Auntie Amethyst, Nana Pearl, Gemma Garnet…”

“I still can’t believe she picked that nickname,” Steven sniggered.

“And, Sadie, Lars and Sour Cream have all offered to babysit too. So if you can stop worrying, and want to go rest for a while, I’ve got backup. It’s not all on you, or me, just know that we have people who we can depend on. And as for worrying about missing stuff, we can take pictures, you’ll see almost everything, even if you can’t be here for it. We’re a long way off from missing first word territory. First real smile and laugh are probably at least a month away.”

“So what you’re saying is, ‘trust me, we got this’?”

“Well that, and get some sleep. Anything else bothering you?” She took his head in both her hands and batted her eyes at him, a coy smile on her face. He tried to keep a neutral expression but once she raised her eyebrows repeatedly his composure broke.

“Ok, nightmares have been getting the better of me again.”

“You need a new therapist.” She gave his face a gentle squish and moved her hands to wrap around his neck.

“Tell me about it. She moved to Jersey, _who retires in Jersey_?”

“Aren’t people who retire supposed to go closer to the equator? Where its warmer?” she joked.

“I need a referral, the guy who has her office now does not understand men who aren’t very sexual. Or the gender stuff about how gems mostly refer to themselves as she and since I don’t usually, it bothers me when I’m misgendered.” He dragged his hands down his face. “I hate dealing with insurance stuff. It feels so tedious and frustrating.”

“So here’s what we’re gonna do. It’s time for _you_ to go back to bed. I’ll stay up to pump. Then I’ll send out some emails to see who’s available to babysit what days this week. I’ll make arrangements, so on one of those days, you can see your doctor and get the referral. And if you want me to sit on hold with your insurance so you can get other things done, _I will_.”

“You’re the best,” he sang. Then more quickly he said “I don’t deserve you.”

“None of that talk, Biscuit.” She patted his face as she spoke.” You’ll feel better once you sleep. Peanut is all mine until after I call your doctor, that won’t be until after 8:30. So get some rest.”

“You’re the boss,” he replied. He gave her a tender kiss and unfolded his legs to stand. Unsteadily, he pulled himself to his feet. After gaining his bearings, he turned and offered his hand to his wife. She grasped it and tugged herself up, wincing.

“Ow, leg cramp.”

“I can fix that,” he said, scooping her into his arms, pulling her Pajamas up and kissing her calves. She squirmed and giggled as he carried her into the bedroom. “I can’t sleep unless you’re happy, so let me make you happy!”

“That wasn’t the deal!” she gasped, half irritated, half chuckling. “Go to bed!”


	4. Together: We Made it Through the Night, Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soft Jock AU. After sleeping off having a bit too much to drink, Steven and Connie talk. Rated T for discussions of inebriation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a sequel chapter to day 2, Singing. This is set in the Soft Jock AU, found here: https://susoftjockau.tumblr.com/ [One of the most wholesome AUs out there, I heartily recommend it]
> 
> Steven and Connie are in established relationship here, and there's a good amount of talk about being drunk, as a warning, though that's more of a backdrop to Steven dismissing his own well-being. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! I love feedback, so if you have a moment, please review!

Connie was very comfortable when she woke up. She would have snuggled deeper into the covers on her bed, but she knew that Steven was awake from the small circles he drew with his hand on her forearm. She cracked her eyes open and he still looked asleep but the motion continued. She set her hand on top of his and he sighed.

“You awake?” he mumbled groggily.

“Yeah,” she replied. He turned from laying on his back to his shoulder facing her. His eyes opened slowly, still looking tired. “How do you feel?” she asked. He swallowed.

“Mouth’s pretty dry, and I feel like I need to brush my teeth.”

“Well that’s pretty normal,” Connie replied. “Anything else? Upset stomach, headache, or dizziness?”

“No, I’m ok. Just a bit tired.” Steven blinked a few times and glanced around. He noticed a slight bruise on his left forearm. “That wasn’t there yesterday.”

“You stumbled a bit when we came in and hit it on the doorframe.”

“That explains it.” Steven licked his right palm and pressed it to the mark, watching it fade. “That’s better.” Connie looked him over.

“If you’re feeling ok, sit up for me and look out the blinds,” she instructed. He turned over on his back and sat up slowly. He reached an arm out to the window behind her and peeked through the blinds. “Any light sensitivity?”

“No,” he replied.

“ _You don’t get hangovers,”_ Connie hissed in blatant envy.

“…I guess not?” he muttered, laying back down on his back. “Sorry.” She sighed.

“That’s not something you should feel sorry about,” she replied unhappily. “From what I understand, they’re miserable. I only have had one, and it wasn’t good.”

“How do you feel?” Steven asked.

“I didn’t have enough to be drunk last night, so other than a bit cotton-mouthed, I’m fine.”

“I’m sorry, again.”

“Steven, you know you apologized and thanked me a bunch last night, right? You don’t have to keep apologizing.” Steven avoided her gaze. “How much do you remember?”

“Most of it, I think.”

“Tell me.” Steven closed his eyes, brow furrowed with distaste.

“We went to Amanda’s party, we were having a good time.” His voice was bitter as he recounted the night’s events. “ You talked to Natalie for a bit and then when Fiona offered me a cocktail, I stupidly didn’t ask ‘what’s in this’ or ‘how strong is this,’ I just thought, ‘it’d be rude to turn her down,’ then, ‘oh this tastes good’ and drank it too fast. You came over, I started singing something I was planning on playing for you when I had my guitar, and you got embarrassed. We left, came here, you gave me aspirin and water, you tried to brush my hair, I said some dumb things that made you cry, we talked, I got changed and we went to bed.”

“Ok, so you do remember,” Connie replied. “Do you-“

“I’m sorry for embarrassing you and I wish I could take back what I said that upset you so much.”

“You talked about being worried about losing control of your powers.”

“It’s happened before,” he replied voice edged with agitation. “You being around helped ground me when my head was fuzzy, but that kind of pressure shouldn’t be on you. I need to be more responsible.” Steven sighed, closing his eyes. “If I’m going to have more than one drink, I should have a gem chaperone me, so they can grab me so I won’t get out of hand.”

“Steven, you’re my best friend, and I will repeat what I said last night. ‘It’s ok to ask for help.’ I’m willing to help you, with anything you would do for me. If I _do_ have a few drinks sometime, I know you’ll look out for me.”

“Connie, I can’t ask you to keep me out of trouble if my powers freak out. I could break something that normal people can’t. I could hurt somebody. _I could hurt you._ If my pink switch goes off, and I hurt you, I don’t think I could forgive myself.” She stared at him in confusion.

“Pink switch?” His eyes shot open, realizing what he had said, and his pupils shrank to pinpricks.

“I- I- uh, I shouldn’t have said anything about it, forget it.”

“You’re worried about it, whatever it is.”

“Most of the time I’m _fine_ , it hasn’t happened since first year, so it shouldn’t happen again.”

“That doesn’t stop you from being scared.”

“I know. But it also doesn’t mean you have to make it something you’re afraid of _too_.”

“I feel like _not knowing_ is making me more afraid. ‘The devil you know,’ right?”

“I’m sorry, Connie,” he sighed, looking away, “but it’s not something I like talking about. I’m not ready to talk about it.”

“Please know that when you are ready, I’ll listen.”

He turned his body back toward her and reached for her hand. She opened hers and gave his a small squeeze. “Thank you,” he replied, with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. She kept her face neutral as he drew circles with his thumb onto the back of her hand.

“There was one other thing you were doing last night that was a bit… concerning.”

“Was it the embarrassing song?” he asked, voice resigned. “Because that was supposed to be a surprise for you, not blurted out in front of a bunch of people.”

“No, you sang another song, after we talked.”

“Oh, right.” He avoids her eyes again, and she frowns.

“Steven, do you really feel like, you can’t-“

“Measure up? Well, sometimes. I’ve never been normal, so occasionally it feels like no matter what I do, it’ll never be enough.”

“It’s hard feeling that way.” Connie replied. “My parents wanted me to be a doctor and now, it’s not what I want, and I’ve finally accepted that. So those expectations aren’t going to be met. You shouldn’t have to be the one who meets everyone’s whims in your life.”

“Is it a bad thing that I want to make everyone around me happy?” He asked. He looked her in the eyes again. She shook her head.

“That’s not what I’m saying. Other people’s happiness shouldn’t mean more to you than your own all the time. You can’t satisfy everybody.” She rested her hand on his arm.

“It’s not _all_ the time-“He muttered.

“You can only make so many people a priority and you have to make yourself the top of your priorities.”

“That’s-“He stops himself. “That _feels selfish_.”

“It isn’t. It’s caring for yourself.”

“I still _do_ , just not- I don’t think of myself _in the same way_ as when I think of when I’m helping others.”

“I think you’d treat yourself better if you did. If what you said in that song-”

“It’s only feels that way now and then. I try not to let it bother me too much.” Steven paused, shrugging. “Anyway, I didn’t write that one, my mom did. The gems taught it to me.”

“Oh wow,” Connie whispered. “That’s kind of… messed up?”

“I mean, they probably didn’t think I would feel the same way sometimes, but, what do I know?” Steven was deflecting, but she was almost sure she wouldn’t be able to press him much further.

“Well, I think that we should put a pin in this, and probably get something to drink. My mouth is getting dryer by the minute.”

“Hang on,” he said, and sat up, turning to face the rest of the room. He quickly spotted his empty bottle from the previous night and the one Connie hadn’t drank from. He hopped gently off the bed and picked up both of them. He strode back to hand her the full bottle and kept the empty one. “Take that, I’ll refill this one for myself.”

“Steven, wait,” she called.

“You took care of me last night, I can take it from here. I’ll bring you some ice too.”

“You don’t have to do that,” she said, sitting up.

“It’s no trouble, I’ll be right back.” Steven replied with a half-smile. With that, he stepped out of the room and Connie was alone. She pulled herself to the edge of the bed and leaned down to the brush forgotten on the floor from the previous night. Setting the water bottle between her knees, she began brushing her shoulder length hair.

Her eyes wandered around the modest dishevelment that had come about in her room. Her end table had been cleared to ensure that if Steven had gotten sick in the night her books would definitely be out of range for them to be damaged. The books were in a small stack by the edge of her closet. Steven’s shoes sat a few feet from the door in a heap next to her own sneakers. His jacket was messily thrown over her desk chair. Her desk and dresser were the only things that seemed to be in order in the room.

She stood, moving toward the doorway when Steven entered holding a plastic cup in one hand and his full bottle in the other.

“Gonna go brush my teeth,” she said hoarsely, moving her water bottle back to the nightstand and stood. Steven nodded and sat back down on the bed as she strolled past him. Placing his bottle back besides her he unscrewed the cap on her bottle and dumped the ice from the cup into it, sealing it afterwards with a twist.

“If you want to toss me my pants, I’ll get changed while you’re in there,” Steven requested, setting down the empty cup and bottle on the nightstand.

“OK,” she answered, picking up his wadded jeans from the floor and giving them a light toss toward the foot of the bed. He snatched them out of the air as they came close to the ground. “Nice catch,” Connie said, closing the door with a smirk.

“I’ll tell you when I’m dressed, won’t be long.” He called through the closed door.

“Sounds good,” she replied. With just a few minutes she completed her short morning routine of washing her face and brushing her teeth.

“You can come out now, Connie,” came Steven’s response from the bedroom, as she spat out toothpaste into the sink. With a wipe of her mouth she opened the door to find Steven with jacket and jeans on, hair up in its usual ponytail, and in the process of making her bed.

“You know, I can do that later, right?” She asked mischievously.

“Of course,” he replied, “but I figured it was the least I could do to straighten up-“

“Steven, having you stay over isn’t a problem you need to make up for.” She interrupted, stepping to him and opening her arms for a hug. He placed the comforter down and wrapped his arms gently around her middle, gazing affectionately at her. She smiled, and continued. “You are welcome here. If there was anything I wanted your help with, I’d ask. You don’t have to go out of your way to make yourself useful.”

“I’m trying to be the best houseguest I can be, and that means not leaving a mess.”

“The room doesn’t smell like vomit,” she snarked, “so that’s a win enough in my book.” He laughed, making a slightly queasy face, and released the hug. He turned around, tossing the pillows back in place and sat on the bed. She joined him with a smile. “Best drunk houseguest I’ve ever encountered.”

“I guess I don’t have very steep competition, huh?” he asked, reaching for the water bottles.

“No one else is a thoughtful as you when wasted.” He handed Connie her bottle and took a sip from his.

“Was I really that bad?” he asked quietly, not meeting her eyes again.

“The main thing was your balance, you were tripping all over yourself.”

“I’m-” Steven began.

“No more apologizing,” She interrupted again. “You’ve done that enough in the last 10 hours.” He rubbed his neck with a sheepish smile. “It’s ok. I’m glad things didn’t go badly, I still had a good time, you’re not hungover and I got to spend the night with you.”

“I’m glad you had a good time. I hope that me being stupid didn’t ruin any plans you had for last night.”

“Don’t.” she chided, reaching out with her empty hand and giving his arm a squeeze. “You aren’t stupid. You miscalculated how much drink you can handle and we dealt with the situation. Now we can move past that and focus on today.”

“OK,” he answered. “I should probably get going soon, huh? I don’t want to keep you from your essay you were talking about before we went to the party.” She released his arm to put a hand on her hip.

“Firstly, how are you going anywhere without your keys?”

“Oh, right.”

“And secondly, we should probably get a bite to eat before you go home. I don’t want to hear that you got lightheaded driving and wrecked your car.”

“If you’re hungry, we can get something, but if not I can get something on my way.” Steven grabbed his phone from his jacket pocket with his empty and unlocked it.

“I’m making sure you get something to eat before I let you leave campus.” He nodded, conceding. She drank from her water bottle while she waited for him to check his messages.

Steven opened the group chat between Connie, Natalie and himself, reading Natalie’s message from the night before _: I have your keys, come get them after you’ve slept it off._

One new message had come in at 10:06 this morning: _You awake yet?_

 _Yeah, I’ll be at the café in a few, do you want to meet me there or should I stop by first?_ Steven replied, the timestamp reading 10:47. He looked back to Connie and set the phone onto his lap.

“There was one thing I remembered about last night that struck me as a bit strange,” Steven said.

“Oh? And what was that?”

“Well, other than the song thing, I don’t remember saying much that would be embarrassing, but you were blushing a lot when I was talking.” Connie ducked her head and looked away self-consciously.

“You _sound different_ when you’re drunk.” She mumbled.

“Really?” he asked. “I didn’t notice.”

“Your voice goes a lot deeper. Bassy.” She replied, staring at the floor. Steven smirked and cleared his throat.

“Why Connie,” he said, purposely deepening his pitch. “I had no idea that you find my deeper voice alluring.”

“It does things to my head, Steven!” She replied testily, face flushed. “I don’t want to be thinking about how it makes me feel, I want to be paying attention to what you’re saying and not about the _way you sound_.”

“What do you mean?” He asked huskily. “You can’t focus when I get all sultry?”

“No!” She barked, redness reaching her ears. “I don’t like feeling like I’m beholden to the whims of the baser parts of my brain.”

“Aww,” He replied, adjusting his voice to its typical tone. “Ok, I’ll save that voice for special occasions then.” He waggled his eyebrows, and she pouted at his expression. A ping from Steven’s phone caught both of their focus to it to his message instead of each other.

 _Meet me at the café in 10_ mins, Natalie’s reply read. Connie glanced at his phone and stood.

“I need to get dressed,” Connie said, moving to her dresser.

“Ok, I’ll brush my teeth and I’m good to go,” he replied.

Within moments, the pair was ready and they walked out, hand in hand. Not every problem could be solved with a conversation, but together their struggles were easier to bear.


	5. Drive: Drive Carefully, Get Home Safe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a stressful evening, Steven wasn't quite prepared to have Connie fuming with him the following afternoon. He probably should have seen this coming, but he reassures her that his accident wasn't as bad as she fears. Post Volleyball, pre Snow Day of SU Future. Hurt/ Comfort. Steven Centric. Gen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't able to finish Day 4 before this chapter, I'm trying not to make it into a monster chapter like Day 2, but this was easier to get out. I had an idea for a Greg & Steven one-shot that this spun off of, I might try to write that later this month. [Edit: New eps coming in March means I have another project I’m making a priority so the Greg and Steven one-shot is going to have to wait]
> 
> I hope you enjoy Connie being the comfort recipient, I've been punishing Steven too much and wanted to turn it around a bit. Its a bit more somber, but the kids will be alright. 
> 
> I appreciate any feedback, and thanks for reading!

Steven had spent the day with his dad, working from his phone on rescheduling the projects he wouldn’t be able to delegate. The unscheduled tune-up his car had needed only resulted in 2 missed lectures which wouldn’t be too bad, but most of his other work would be piling up on his desk at Little Homeschool. This wasn’t how he wanted to spend his day, but it was unavoidable.

Greg had avoided putting any undue pressure on his son, seeing how booked his schedule usually was. Talking to the mechanics and getting the work needed with the car handled was something he could do that could ease Steven’s mind. The other phone call Greg had made while Steven was busy was not going to relieve the teenager’s stress right away, but it would likely help him in the long run. Greg just hoped Steven wouldn’t be too mad. Greg had kept his promise that he wouldn’t tell the gems the real reason the car needed to fixed today and not on a less busy day. However, Connie had not been mentioned in that conversation, and it was probably best she be kept in the loop.

When Steven darted off to give Connie a call, Greg went to grab a soda and snack for when Steven returned, knowing that would at least help keep his son from chewing him out too badly.

* * *

At around 4pm Connie sent Steven a text that just said “Call me.”

Steven rounded the back of the carwash and paced nervously for a moment. That could be about anything. Maybe trouble with something in class? Or something was going on with her parents? Or maybe it has something to do with one of her friends, or clubs? There was no use just hypothesizing about the problem, it would be better to get more data and then work on fixing it. After 3 rings the call connected.

“Hi Connie, is everything ok?”

“What happened last night after you left?” She wasn’t yelling but her tone was stern. He continued to pace.

“Uh, just a bit of car trouble, I don’t know what dad told you but-“

“Steven.” Connie barked. He swallowed hard. “You should have had some caffeine or slept on the couch, Mom is _fine_ with that when you’re tired, but you _insisted_ that you were able to drive and I have to hear from _your dad_ that you dozed off while driving home!” Steven dragged the hand that wasn’t holding the phone down his face.

“Connie, I didn’t think-“

“To tell me after it happened?” She cut him off, exasperated.

“I didn’t want you to worry.”

“Well, you did make me worry. I can’t believe you wouldn’t have called me after you were done on the phone with your dad.”

“It was late, and you had school today-“

“I want to know what’s going on with you Steven,” She said, voice tight. “If you got hurt, and nobody told me, I- I don’t know what I’d do.”

“I’m not hurt,” he said gently, trying to calm her. “It wasn’t that serious of an accident. No one else was hurt either. I messed up, but I’m waiting on the Dondai to be fixed and then it’ll all be ok.”

“You hit a guard rail, you could have gone through it, gone into the ravine and gotten really hurt!” Connie shouted. Steven cursed internally that his dad gave her all the details.

“I got lucky, I wasn’t going that fast when it happened.” He soothingly replied. “I also only grazed the side of the car. I’m ok, I promise.”

“I- I’m scared Steven,” she said, voice quaking. “What if this happens again? I don’t want to-” She choked down a sob.

“I don’t want it to either Connie.” His voice thick with emotion, but soft. His gut had twisted when he heard her start crying. “I’ll be more careful.”

“Falling asleep at the wheel kills people,” she bawled. “You could have hit a pole or tree or building! I don’t want to lose you.” His mouth went dry, heart thudding heavily as it had after the accident. “A- a-and if you do get into trouble, I want to know about it. Don’t leave me in the dark again. I hate it.”

“I’m sorry. I should have called. Your parents might be mad, though.”

“Well mom knows, I texted her after I got off the phone with Greg.” She admitted quietly. His pacing stopped, mind spinning. “She knows not to tell the Gems, though, your dad told me you didn’t want them to know, and I told her that.” Steven took a few breaths, trying to stop the tangled thought spiral of panic after knowing Dr. Maheswaran had been told about this accident. “So she’ll understand if you need to call after dark. Honestly, if you have to drive somewhere late, and you want to just talk on the phone to keep yourself from falling asleep, I’ll take that over worrying you won’t make it home.”

“Dad offered to do that too.”

“If you don’t call me on the ride, just text me that you got home when you leave my house. If I know you’re safe, I’ll sleep better at night.”

“I can do that.” He murmured. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m glad you’re ok.”

“Yeah, I’m glad I didn’t hit anything else. The car was scratched up but other than the passenger side mirror falling off, most of the damage isn’t too bad. I needed some other work done so they’re doing all of it today. I’ll be back on the road tomorrow.” He paused. “And I’ll be more careful from now on.”

“I sure hope you will,” she replied anxiously. “Why aren’t you getting enough sleep?” Steven chewed the inside of his lip as he considered what to say.

“It’s just been really busy lately.” Steven said, shrugging. “Little Homeschool takes up a lot of time, and some days are harder than others to get enough sleep.”

“Please try to take care of yourself, ok?” she urged. “I want you to be safe.”

“I know, I’ll try to be better about it. I don’t like making you worry.”

“My mom’s going to make you take a tea with you if you try to leave while yawning too much.”

“Yeah, just, please don’t tell Pearl. I don’t think I could take her hiding my car keys to make sure I don’t have any accidents. I don’t want to have to rely on Lion again, he disappears for days at a time, and warps can’t get me everywhere.”

“I won’t. I know you like your independence.”

“Are you still mad?” Steven asked.

“A little bit, but I know you understand, so I feel a lot better.”

“I hope you can forgive me.”

“As long as I know you’ll be more careful. I won’t stop talking to you over it.”

“Good, that was awful last time.”

“Yeah, but we made it through.” Connie paused. “I should probably tell mom you’re doing ok, I stopped texting her after you called me.”

“Ok, I’ll talk to you later.”

“Bye,” Connie replied, and hung up. Steven put his phone back in his pocket. He walked back to the pair of beach chairs his dad had at the front of It’s a Wash. He laid back in the chair and sighed.

* * *

Greg came out of the office where he kept his microwave and mini fridge with a piping hot egg and cheese wrap on a paper plate, in one hand and two sodas in the other. “Everything ok, Schtu-ball? I got a bite to eat if you want.” Greg offered the sandwich to Steven, which he took, but wouldn’t meet his dad’s eyes. “You mad?”

“Yeah, kind of,” Steven said, shrugging. “She brought up some good points though. She was yelling and crying, which made me feel bad that it was my fault, but I was gonna tell her later, just not today.”

“Well, I figured you should have somebody else to talk about this with.” Greg replied, rubbing the back of his neck. “I probably shouldn’t have pressed as much, but I know you feel guilty about the car, and if you won’t talk to the gems or me, somebody’s gotta check in with you, you know?”

“I hate being the reason she’s upset,” Steven muttered, taking a bite of the sandwich. The pair looked to the setting sun, and Greg sat down, placing one soda next to Steven’s chair and kept the other in his hand. ”I don’t want to cause any more trouble.”

“We all make mistakes, kiddo.” Greg said. “I know I did, at your age. As long as you’re learning from them and you don’t get hurt doing reckless things, we’re not going to hold it against you. She’s angry with you because I know the two of you mean a lot to each other. And you mean the world to me. Just be more careful, ok?”

“Yeah,” Steven replied.

Greg and Steven spent the evening in quiet reflection, enjoying the sunset and each other’s company. Greg could only be grateful that Steven’s first accident hadn’t been worse. No one could replace the love he had in his heart for his son, though he knew Steven had the love of many. He hoped one day that Steven’s best friend would be the one he thought that way about, too.


	6. Sword: Talin the Hexblade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greg, Connie, Steven and Amethyst are trying out some collaborative storytelling through characters of Faerun. Or, Greg tries to tell a story through D&D and it's like herding cats. Mostly platonic, and not to be taken seriously.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This could really take place any time in the SU: Future Timeline. I started this back in February, but could easily fit before Together Forever, or between I Am My Monster and The Future or after The Future. I don't even mention anything about Greg's hair so this could even fit before Bluebird.
> 
> Thanks again for all the kudos and nice comments! Check out the series this is now a part of if you dig the hurt/comfort stuff in this collection, that's the next story I'm wrapping up before moving on to new things.

“Okay,” Greg started, setting down a bag of dice and his DM screen that looked older than his son on the folding table. He looked to the other three surrounding him: Connie, Steven and Amethyst, seated around the small table, piles of dice near each player. Amethyst and Steven sat with blank character sheets in front of them and Connie’s section of the table was conspicuously free of paper. “So who knows what they want to play?”

Almost immediately, Connie retrieved what looked like a nearly completed character sheet from a folder she had previously set in her lap. “Teifling Warlock, Hexblade Subclass, Hermit Background,” she declared proudly. Greg nodded sagely.

“Out of the four basic roles Steven explained to me, Beatstick is the one I’m most interested in.” Amethyst answered casually. “But… I don’t want to be super reliant on armor, so the best choices are Fighter and Barbarian, right?”

“Yeah,” Greg replied. “Both of them can use shields, but you can sacrifice a bit of your Armor Class, meaning how often you get hit, to wield two-handed weapons, which are stronger than those that only use one hand. Out of the two classes, Barbarian has the most HP, but some of the subclasses may draw you to one over the other.” Greg opened the 5th Edition Players Handbook and stuck a blank index card in the opening page of both classes, sliding the book over to Amethyst. “See what strikes your fancy. If you don’t love those subclasses, I got a few more for you to look at in this bad boy,” he said, patting Xanathar’s Guide to Everything on top of his stack of books. Greg turned his attention to his son. “And how about you, Steven?”

“I was thinking a caster, but we need a healer, right?” Steven asked.

“Well,” Greg answered, “if you didn’t want to play a healer or half-caster with healing spells, like Ranger or Paladin, I can cook up a NPC to keep you from blowing yourself up.”

“Um, the thing is, I was kind more leaning to a specific race than a class, but it’s from Volo’s Guide. Is that acceptable?”

“If that’s what you want, I’m fine with it. Just show me.” Greg said. Steven presented Greg his phone to show the screenshots of the class. Greg quickly scanned the page. “Tabaxi. Dex +2 and Charisma +1. Ok, darkvision, sprint ability, climbing speed 20, 1D4 unarmed melee damage, and Perception and Stealth. I don’t see anything here that seems to be _too_ overpowered. We’ll wanna order a copy of the book to make it easier to reference when we start playing, though.”

“Ok. So for my class, if we need another caster I could do Sorcerer, or for a healer Bard is cool.”

“Yeah, if you have the plus to Charisma, Bard fills the healing role fine and has a lot of fun spells when you don’t need to heal. If you change your mind, let me know.”

“Yeah,” Steven said. “Tabaxi also have a quirk, so I’m gonna roll for that now while Amethyst looks over her class options.” Steven plucked the D10 from his dice pile and gave it a light toss. It tumbled across the table and landed on 0. “Oh dad, I’m sorry.”

“What?” Greg answered.

“‘You can’t help but pocket interesting objects you come across.’” Steven recited. “That’s going to make things annoying for you, probably.”

“It’ll be fine as long as you don’t roll bad when stealing. Otherwise the guards will be after ya.”

“Noted,” Steven answered. “I’ll be taking the ‘Sleight of Hand’ skill then.”

“So Amethyst, you made up your mind?” Greg turned his attention to the gem sitting across from him.

“Yeah, unarmored defense and rage sounds rad.” Amethyst replied. “The totem warrior thing I get at level 3 sounds cool, but you said there were other options in the book with the eyeball creep?”

“Oh yeah, you might like Path of the Storm Herald.” Greg flipped the book open and searched for Barbarian subclasses. “The ‘eyeball creep’ is a Beholder, they’re really powerful magic creatures that have a lot of knowledge and are known to be dangerous to anybody who isn’t high level.” Greg located the page and set the book down in front of Amethyst.

“Do you think you know what race you want?” Connie asked, having been quiet since she had revealed her almost complete character.

“Well, Barbarians are strong, right?” Amethyst replied. “What’s a race that has higher strength?”

“There’s a subrace of dwarf that has Strength, and they naturally have Constitution, which is the other important stat for Barbarians.” Greg answered. “The other common race for Barbarian is Half-Orc, they’ve got plusses to Strength and Con as well. They also do more damage when they critically hit.”

“Oh Amethyst,” Steven interjected, “I got one you might like.” He scrolled on his phone and presented it to her. “How would you like to be a Lizardfolk? They’ve got a bite attack and a swim speed.”

“I can _bite people_?” Amethyst exclaimed. “I’m gonna chomp my way to victory!”

“I see your biting people,” Greg replied in a more measured tone, “And raise you breathing fire or spitting acid. Check Dragonborn out, they increase Strength and have a breath weapon.”

“Ooooh…” Amethyst said with a grin. “I like spitting acid.” Greg took back the Players Handbook and flipped to Dragonborn, handing the book back over.

“So, look that over, jot down your notes on your features, and then we’ll roll your stats.” Greg instructed. “Gonna give you a bit of a buff over the stats in the PH since besides the damage resistance and breath weapon they don’t have a lot of other features like some of the races do. But we can go over that once you roll.” He turned his attention back to his son. “Now Steven, did you have any ideas on what subclass you wanted? I know you don’t get your Bardic College till level 3, but knowing what you’re building towards may help you pick out what spells you want and your playstyle.”

“Valor’s cool, and when I looked into Xanathar’s I also liked College of Swords, but is there any subclasses that are like Sheppard from Druid? Where I can make friends with animals or stuff like that?”

“Oh Steven!” Connie interjected. “There’s a new subclass that they just released, College of Eloquence, which lets you talk with all kinds of creatures for 10 minutes at a time as a bonus action for one of your bardic inspirations. It’s in the newest Unearthed Arcana, I’ll look it up right now.”

“Unearthed Arcana, huh?” Greg pondered. “I haven’t heard that name in ages, but that’s just the way they describe playtest material nowadays, right?”

“Yeah,” Connie replied, pulling out her phone and searching in her recent history. “If you’re fine with stuff that hasn’t been made official yet.”

“Back in 2nd edition and 3.0 days, before you two were born, we used homebrew stuff all the time,” Greg said. “So having playtest material isn’t a bad thing, especially since people making the game are the ones putting it out. Trying out this new subclass to make yourself the role of animal tamer, if that’s what you think you want, Schtu-ball.”

“I’ll check it out,” Steven replied. Connie handed Steven her phone, and he took it graciously.

“So while they’re checking out their classes,” Greg said, “Connie, are you ready to roll your stats?”

“Yes, sir.” Connie said, picking up her set of blue and green D6s.

“Four of those, drop the lowest of each set of four to get your total,” Greg instructed. “Write ‘em down as you go and roll that seven times. Drop the lowest of the seven and place your six stats where you like.” He handed her an index card and she took it, nodding. She tossed the dice into her short dice tower and began totaling her stats.

“So,” Amethyst interjected, “I’m a black Dragoborn Barbarian and I’m thinking I like that Storm herald for when we get to level 3. What else do I gotta do?”

“Just check out the backgrounds in Chapter 4 of the Player’s Handbook,” Greg replied. “There’s more in Sword Coast Adventurer’s Guide, which I can pull up on my phone, if you don’t like these. After that, we’ll roll up your stats.”

“Ok, I’m done,” Connie said. “I got 15, 11, 14, 17, 12, 10. I dropped a 7.”

“If you put that 17 in Charisma and add your racial trait, you end up with 19 and that’s a +4 bonus to start with. Not bad at all. Where you placing the other ones?”

“10 Strength, 14 Dexterity, 15 Constitution, 11 plus 1 racial Intelligence, 12 Wisdom.” Connie tallied.

“Quite respectable.” Greg replied. “Now I wanted to start everyone at level 2, so you’ll be getting your evocations now and another spell. If you haven’t picked your proficiencies, do that now.”

“since I’m a teifling,” Connie said, “I’m going to take advantage of getting the darkness spell once per day for free, so my best evocations for now are Devil’s Sight and Agonizing Blast.”

“You’ve sure done your research, Connie.” Greg said.

“I’m excited to play!” She replied eagerly. “I’ve always wanted to get into a group ever since my dad and I played Baldur’s Gate when I was 11. I was only allowed to play it with the gore settings off though, when I was younger. The only time I got to play D&D was a one-shot with a few school friends but the DM that ran it moved away, and no one else wanted to try.”

“Yeah, DMing isn’t for everyone,” Greg said, nodding.

“Ok Greg,” Amethyst interjected, “I’m gonna go with the Sailor background, so am I good to roll?”

Steven grabbed the Players Handbook from in front of Amethyst since she was done with it.

“Yup. Here ya go!” Greg said, handing over the 4 six-sided dice.

“Go over the math on this one more time, would ya?” Amethyst asked.

“Roll those four dice seven times total.” Greg answered. “Each time you roll, add the three highest numbers together and write it down. Out of those seven rolls, you drop the lowest number and take those to place in whatever stat you like. Con and Strength are the most important for Barbarians, but Dex can be handy too. The dump stat for you will likely be Intelligence, like how Connie put her lowest in Strength.”

“OK,” Amethyst replied. She gave the dice a shake, before cupping her hands in front of Steven. “Blow on ‘em, for luck Steven!”

“The statistics on your dice won’t change just because somebody blows on them, Amethyst.” Connie teased as Steven puffed out a breath onto the dice. Amethyst shook her hands few more times.

“Just cause that’s true for humans, doesn’t mean is true for gems.” Amethyst countered. “Steven’s got magic spit, maybe it’ll magically make my rolls better.” With a gentle throw of her wrist the dice bounced and spread across the table. “6, 5, 6, 2. That’s a 17. And if I don’t botch the next few throws I can be the powerhouse of the group!”

“Don’t count your dragons before they hatch, Amethyst.” Greg chided with a smile. “You never want to tempt fate on the dice gods, or your campaign can be doomed before it starts.”

Amethyst scooped the borrowed dice into her hands again and with a shake rolled them again. “Aw dunk, 4, 3, 4, 2. That’s 11. Not great.”

“Keep rolling, Amethyst. Just give me the totals when you’re done.” Greg instructed. He turned to Connie with a smile. “Now Connie, unlike the other two, Warlocks often have more perspective on theism than martial or arcane caster classes. So tell me,” he leaned on his hand, “what is your character’s relationship like with her deity?”

“My character goes by Talin.” Connie replied, tone serious. “She came across her arcane focus left for her by the Raven Queen while she was exiled from her hometown. She was drawn to it from a message in a dream. If my patron contacts me it’s either with just a few words, or in my dreams. If I’m commanded, I can meditate and she can send me short messages.”

“Are you one of an order, or are you working alone?” Greg asked.

“Alone. If there are others who work for Lady Death, I don’t know it. All I know is _I_ was chosen.”

“So what does Lady Death expect of her chosen?” Greg probed. “What is your calling, and why have you returned to the civilized world?”

“The Raven Queen wants the souls of the undead who have been wrongfully brought back or kept from peacefully passing to the afterlife in the first place. So she wants me to send back to the world of the dead ghosts, skeletons, scarecrows, vampires, and most importantly Liches. Plus I need to stop any necromancers or other magic users that create these things.” Connie replied.

“Scarecrows are undead?” Amethyst asked, rolling her dice again.

“Yeah, they’re animated by souls of vengeful spirits, whether humanoid or demons.” Connie replied.

“You didn’t say zombies, is the Raven Queen ok with zombies?” Steven asked, looking up from the Players Handbook chapter on Backgrounds.

“Zombies aren’t animated by souls, they’re just bodies.” She answered. “Like an animated armor, so if it’s not a returned soul, it’s not a problem. Skeletons are controlled by souls, despite not having free will.”

“So I’m done rolling stats, Greg,” Amethyst cut in. “17, 11, 8, 11, 17, 16.”

“We got a power player here,” Greg replied approvingly. “So by putting the 17 in Strength, you’ll end up with a 19, giving you a +4 to hit and damage. Set the other big numbers in Constitution and Dexterity. And I’ll give you an extra +1 to Con since Dragonborn are a little underpowered. So, if you make Dex 16, put the 17 in Con, you’ll end up with a +3 and +4 as your modifers, meaning your starting AC will be 17 with no shield and 19 with a shield. Pretty respectable.”

“So if I wanna take intimidation as a class skill, I wanna give an 11 to my Charisma, making that racial bonus hit 12, right?” Amethyst asked.

“You’re picking it up, Amethyst. That just leaves wisdom and intelligence left.” Greg answered.

“Kay, I’ll put the 11 in Wisdom and 8 in Int,” Amethyst replied. “Connie’s the smart one in this crew, no surprise there,” she teased, and Connie smiled as her cheeks flushed.

“So why are you rolling into town, Connie?” Greg posited.

“My Lady Death thinks I can get stronger faster with a group. There’s only so much I can do on my own, but as long as I can eventually get strong enough to be a lich hunter, whatever I have to do with my time to get there she’s in favor of.” She shrugged a bit. “I can fight a couple skeletons on my own as a level 1, but I’m sure I didn’t see a lot of them all the time. I bet I got most of my XP from beasts or bandits.”

“Sounds like someone’s playing an edgy character…” Amethyst teased.

“I just loved the potential for what Hexblade can do in combat.” She said, twirling her pencil. “So I did a lot of research and figured out what made the most sense for my ideal playstyle.” Greg set his hands together and leaned towards Connie, eyes glinting with feigned apprehension.

“So Connie, this sounds like you’re not playing a good character. Are you going the evil or neutral route? What’s your alignment?” She hesitated a moment, setting her pencil down and spinning it on the table.

“… If you really think about it, I’m fighting mostly evil undead, and Raven Queen’s an unaligned deity…” Connie’s voice came out high and nervous, the least confident she had been all afternoon. “So the case can easily be made for her followers to be neutral, right? After all, it doesn’t matter if you’re good or evil, just about everything will die eventually.” She hesitated, glancing back to Steven and Amethyst. “I just don’t want to make the team weaker if we have conflicting alignments. If I have an evil character, and one of you is playing a good character, I’ll have to trick you into thinking I’m not evil so we don’t end up constantly bickering.” Amethyst shrugged.

“My character’s not much of a free thinker.” She replied nonchalantly. “She probably wouldn’t be into slaughtering innocent people, but I don’t really think she’d have any reservations about smashing up some skeletons or necromancers. I say, if you wanna go bad, go for it.” Greg, Connie and Amethyst all turned to Steven, who had been quiet for a little while. He looked at them confusedly for a moment.

“What?” He asked.

“Are you into playing the bad boy, Stee-man?” Amethyst purred, spinning a d8 on the table.

“I-“ He froze for a second. “I could play an evil character if that’s what everyone else wants to do,” his voice tight. “I mean Amethyst and I were heels when we did Purple Puma and Tiger Millionaire…”

“If you want to play a good guy, that’s fine,” Connie interjected. “I’ll play Talin as neutral.”

“Connie, I want you to have fun, so I can play a neutral character if that’s better for the group.” Steven replied. “I think I found a background that will work for that anyway, just gimmie a sec…”

“Ok, Steven.” Greg said. “Amethyst, what’s your motivation for your character? You said she’s a sailor, right? So what brings her to port, and what reason would she have for finding an adventuring group?”

“Oh, that’s easy: revenge.” Amethyst replied with a sneer.

“Did you get kicked off your ship?” Connie asked. “And what’s her name?

“Not just that. My ship was stolen by pirates.” She answered roguishly. “I was one of the few survivors of the Silver Swordfish. I want to group up and get stronger so I can take the ship back. There’s two people that need to go down for their place in this folly. The captain of the ship that boarded my vessel, and the cad who’s heading it now both need to find an axe in their heads. My axe, specifically. And her name is Wiivai Norixius.”

“You came up with that fast, Amethyst,” Greg replied.

“Guess I’m just a natural improviser,” she said coyly.

“With what you just said, that sounds like you have a pretty specific goal in mind.” Greg replied, and Amethyst nodded. “We’ll workshop your remaining crew and your adversaries on our own time.”

“Sounds good, Greg. Oh, and when you were talking about alignment stuff, I think I’m feeling the Chaotic Neutral vibe.” Amethyst said. “Outside of my goal to take back my old ship, I’m down for whatever. Drinks, fighting, gambling, flirting. It’s all on the table.”

“Oh boy.” Greg replied, running a hand through his hair. “Well, we’ll make it work.”

“Dad,” Steven said, “I wanted to know if you were open to the Background Variants. There’s one I like if I can play around with it a bit.”

“Lay it on me,” Greg replied.

“Okay, so noble makes it easier to talk to other nobles and get common people to accommodate me, right? But I’m a Tabaxi, which is from the southern isle of Chult, so likely there wouldn’t be many noble-born families on the main part of Faerun.”

“Well, that’s true, but I can make exceptions if you’d want to play it that way. In that case, it will probably make you the face of the party. You’ll probably be doing most of the talking for the group.” Greg interjected. “All of you are playing uncommon races, so the idea that the cat-man is the most approachable of this trio makes the most sense.”

“Ok, so here’s the alternative option. Noble has a variant for knight, which gives three retainers instead of having a position of privilege, which makes less sense for a foreign noble. But I’m a bard, so instead of having knightly retainers, I could have them be my back-up band! I’m the second son of noble family, an eccentric musician who wants to get out and see the world. I’m still well-spoken and have a bit of money to throw around, but I’ve got a little crew, instead of having to worry about the names of local nobility.”

“So what’s the catch?” Greg asked.

“I would just want my retainers, or band, to be proficient in one skill,” Steven replied. “Performance with a different instrument than me.”

“I don’t see a problem with that.” Greg answered. “I still think based on your college of eloquence, and noble background you’d probably end up leading most conversations with NPCs. Connie and Amethyst will likely be pulling their weight more in combat.” Steven smiled and shrugged. “Ok, your turn to roll, Schtu-ball.”

“Okay.” He picked up his dice and gave them a toss.

“Connie, do you have your spell list finished?” Greg asked.

“Yes sir.” She answered. “But I had a question about equipment. Warlocks only start with simple weapons and light armor, and I won’t be as well equipped for the role my character is filling without some more gold. Are we only working with the starting equipment?”

“Well, ya’ll are level two, so I think we can make you guys a little richer than you started with.” Greg answered, flipping to the chart and setting it in front of her. “So in addition, we can do the table on the wealth by class but halved. I think most of you getting a hundred extra gold would be too much in the opposite direction.”

“So, I would roll the 4d4 but multiply it by 5 instead of 10?” Connie asked.

“You got it,” Greg answered, shooting her a finger gun, and dropping two d4s in front of her.

“Hook a gem up, Greg.” Amethyst said. “How many d4 do I roll?”

“2 d4, multiplied by 5. That would be a minimum of 10 and a max of 40.” Greg replied. Connie gave her 4 dice a shake and dropped them into her dice tower.

“Oh good. 11. So that makes 55 gold on top of my 5 from hermit and starting equipment.” Connie said.

“I’m open to letting you sell what you’re not using before all your characters meet.” Greg interjected. Amethyst dice clicked lightly on the table.

“I got 5. So 25 extra gold for me.” Amethyst said.

“Pick yourself up an extra weapon or two, and probably a shield, Amethyst. It’ll come in handy.” Greg replied.

“Okay so I got 17,14,12,8,12,14.” Steven jumps in.

“That’s a little low, but with your racial bonuses and placement in the right stats you’ll be fine.”

“So 12 Strength, 14 in Dex and Con, Intelligence of 8, Wisdom 12 and 17 Charisma. Tabaxi’s bonus makes Charisma 18 and Dexterity 16.”

“It’s a solid array your party has.” Greg replies. “Now roll your 5d4 for your extra money.” Greg hands the teen the pyramid shaped dice he retrieved from Connie and Amethyst earlier, and turns to Connie. “Have you decided your alignment, Connie?”

“Yeah, I still think True Neutral fits best.” She answers. “I have most of my character traits nailed down, and I think that’s what makes the most sense.”

“You know your character best,” Greg replies. “Your turn to measure your wealth, Schtu-ball,” With a quick toss, the dice lay out Steven’s fortune.

“Dad, I made out like a bandit,” Steven preened with a smile. “14 times 5 which is 70. I wanna buy a pony.”

“Hold your horses there, kiddo.” Greg replied. “Some of that money’s gotta go toward outfitting your band.”

“Huh?” Steven said, face puzzled.

“I never said that you were going to get your trio’s instruments for free, did I?” Greg asked, smiling slyly.

“Aw…” Steven mumbled. “Maybe only two of them should play and the other should be our roadie.” Greg chuckled.

“You’ll have to pick out your spells kiddo, but I think we’ve got a solid party here.” Greg replied. “Are there any other burning questions for the group?”

“Nah,” Amethyst answered. Connie shook her head.

“How do you feel about character voices?” Steven asked.

“I’ll probably do some for the important NPCs but you can expect your Joe Schmos to sound like I usually do,” Greg said with a laugh. “As for you three, you’re allowed, just don’t strain yourself or make it sonically unpleasant for everyone else at the table.”

“Anybody seen where they pahked the boat? I was jus in the gahden tryin to chahm a lady afta I hopped off the bow,” Amethyst rattled off in her Bostonian accent, and the teens at the table giggled.

“I hope you can keep that up, Amethyst.” Greg replied. “Afta all, you got do a lotta tawkin’ when ya ain’t brawlin’,” he added, slipping into an Empire city accent.

“Good ‘eavens, das quite enouf-“ Steven started before Connie cut him off.

“No Magic Brian.” She said leaning into him with a smirk.

“Aww…” he replied. “What are you gonna do?”

“Svedish.” She answered. “If my Lady Death vills it.”

“My, my, I do see a _fine_ lookin’ miss with those horns across the bar,” Steven drawled sweetly. “I do declare I _must_ ask for her name and buy the lady a drink,” he continued, southern accent giving him a coy air.

“Vat manner of cveature is ze cat man approaching me?” She asked shyly.

“Ok kids, save it for when we get started.” Greg interrupted.

“Aww man,” Amethyt said, “it was just about to get good, Greg!”

“I know how busy y’all are, but I want to try and make this happen once a month at least.” Greg interjected. “So if we can squeeze a session in next week or the following week, we’ll move forward a few weeks from there.”

“Most of my classes are weekday mornings or afternoons,” Amethyst replied. “So weekends or school nights after 6 are good for me. Thursdays are the only days I’m booked.”

“It depends on the projects I got going on,” Connie added. “Some weeknights I’ve got 3 or 4 nights with open hours, and other weeks I’m so swamped I have to eat at my desk most of the time. I’ll keep you posted once the weekend hits and I bang out my schedule.”

“Whatever day works for you guys, I’ll clear my schedule.” Steven said. “Just give me a couple days’ notice.”

“Ok,” Greg replied. “Good session folks. If anybody has questions about spells or rules, just text me. I got some fun stuff planned…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Each of the characters here have their own character sheet I made in D&D Beyond. Below are scans of their portrait drawings, and if you like my art, I have an [art blog here.](https://lightanddarklove-art.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Connie’s character [Talin the Warlock](https://ddb.ac/characters/30271913/nwMyGa)  
>   
> Amethyst’s Character [Wiivai the Barbarian](https://ddb.ac/characters/30396781/d8rrgZ)  
>   
> Steven’s Character [Larks Song the Bard](https://ddb.ac/characters/30275981/huOzfb)  
> 


	7. Future: Fear the of the Future, but it's not so bad with you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connie's having some dark thoughts about what the future may hold, with the risk of societal collapse looming closer, but Steven's always willing to listen to her talk. A bit of existential dread and paranoia, but with a humorous lens. Connie Centric. Gen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Edit: Still not done with Chapter 6, but 4 has been completed, so check that one out if you liked Chapter 2, it’s a continuation on that Soft Jock fic. Hopefully I’ll complete Ch 6 in a few days.]
> 
> This was inspired by the story of Regan's government cheese, which large caches of them are rumored to be in  
> Missouri, called Show-me state here. Read this article about government cheese if you're interested: https://www.history.com/news/government-cheese-dairy-farmers-reagan

It wasn’t often that Connie felt the need to call Steven at odd hours of the night. More often, in the wee hours before morning, he would send a message to see if she was awake, with bouts of insomnia or the stray nightmare of old battles or threats. But at 19 years old, 2nd Semester of Freshman Year, she called him at 2:07 am on a cold Tuesday evening.

After four rings, he answered with a groggy “Hello?”

“I know it’s late, I’m sorry for that, but we are at 90 seconds to midnight-“Connie said in a rushed and anxious tone.

“Wait, no, Connie. Its 2 am, did you misread the time?”

“On the doomsday clock, Steven!” Her voice fretful.

“I’m sorry, you lost me. What doomsday clock?”

“You’ve never heard of the doomsday clock?” Connie blanched. Her voice hushed in an apprehensive tone. “How have I been this irresponsible not to tell you about this sooner?”

“Slow down, Connie. Why don’t you start with the reason you’re up so late?” Steven said through a yawn. “Then you can tell me about the doomsday clock.”

“I was working on a project, I wasn’t ready to stop but I was tired at 10:30, so I set a timer for 11:15 and took a nap.” She answered ardently

“Uh-huh,” he replied.

“When I woke up, I had a Tweeter notification for a news story about the Doomsday Clock changing. I was scared, but I had to finish my project. The project is about great famines in history, and when I was finished, I looked up something I had cited. I ended up in an article rabbit-hole that lead me to the story of the largest surplus of cheese in America. They’re deep in caves, the biggest store located in Show-Me. The conclusion I came up with is that when society breaks down, if it’s just the two of us, we store flour and pasta in Lion’s Mane, then we travel to Show-me and make government cheese the main staple of our diet. All we’ll have to do is find someplace to plant some easy to maintain fruits and vegetables and we’ll have no trouble managing through societal collapse! It’s the perfect plan!”

“Didn’t already discuss making a bunker in the Temple? Making Mom’s old room into a place with beds and storage and we can rewatch all our favorite movies and shows in there… Or did I dream that?”

“Climate change, Steven, the Temple could be underwater in a decade! We don’t want to drown as soon as we leave it!”

“Hold on, what about asking Lapis to change the shape of the bay to prevent the flooding? Presuming that what collapses society doesn’t also doesn’t also take out the majority of the gems.” Steven paused. “Also, what does the Doomsday Clock have to do with societal collapse?”

“It’s the measure of risk of the world ending in nuclear disaster.”

“…Oh.” Steven replied, voice cracking with dread. “Uh Connie, what does it mean that we’re 90 seconds to midnight?”

“It’s the closest we’ve come in the history of mankind to true societal failure. This measure was implemented in the Cold War, and it’s never been this bad before.”

“Connie, I love you,” he said somberly, “but if my shield or bubble doesn’t protect me from high powered radiation I’m going to ask you to go on without me.”

“Steven!” Connie squawked.

“Radiation sickness is no joke, I regret watching that documentary about Japan in WWII last year, and I don’t want to go out like that.”

“Your mom’s shield protected the gems from the Corruption blast, it would likely protect us if we’re not in an immediate blast radius.”

“I know, but I wonder if that’s different, because it didn’t affect human life on earth, only gems.”

“I mean humans could be fundamentally different now, we’d have to check genomics on right before and right after the corruption blast.”

“I’m adding that to my notes app to look up later.”

“I think you’d have to fund a study for something like that.”

“Adding ‘Talk to dad about funding a genomics study’ to that note.”

“So you think that we can go to Show-me if things go bad?”

“Cheese is the primary reason I’m not vegan, so I’m not opposed to getting that as a major food source. But also, are there any onions that will grow in that climate? Or beans? Because grilled cheese and mac and cheese will only satisfy me for so long. Gimme chili and cheese or something else with good flavor and I will be a happy man.”

“We’ll find a way, I know it,” Connie pledged.

“Do you feel better about the Doomsday Clock now?” Steven asked.

“Yeah, I do.” She replied. “Thanks for letting me rant about societal destruction and cheese for a bit.”

“Cheese Louise, I could listen to you talk all night, but you should get some sleep.”

“Ok, good night, Biscuit, I love you.”

“Love you too, Strawberry. Good night.” She hung up.

Connie sighed as she laid back into bed. She was lucky to have someone she loved to look forward to spending her future with, even if it was scary.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading and reviewing, I'll be replying this week now this project is finally finished.
> 
> My free time is being eaten up by family stuff and I have another unrelated SU WIP I want to post before we get new episodes on March 6th! Cross your fingers that it comes together.


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